The Adventures of Allira
by Littera
Summary: Oneshots FTW! Travelling all over Ferelden to gather armies can put you in all sorts of situations. pc/Alistair
1. Hands

Simply because this is a great game that deserves fanfiction, and quickly! Even if it's just a bundle of oneshots. May contain spoilers for you who haven't played yet, be warned.

Allira is my redheaded city elf rogue.

She was standing in front of one of their fires, absently staring at it, deep in thought. Dimly she registered the chill of the wind against her bare midriff, noting to herself that her Dalish armour was perhaps not made for colder climates.

Her head, and her heart too, was filled with thoughts of Alistair. He confused her to no end, with his human, carefree ways. He always joked, when she tried to get straight answers, and most often she got riddles instead, where the answer was hidden deep beneath the layers of talk. Just like that discussion of lampposts in winter.

She could feel herself blushing, just as he had, when they had that particular discussion. It was silly, he was only jesting, and she had no idea what he really felt. She was a city elf brought up in an Alienage, and even though she had been about to enter into an arranged marriage, she had no idea about love.

Allira sighed deeply then, and shivering again.

And nearly jumped out of her skin, when something soft and warm brushed her bare back, just under the edge of the upper armour. She twisted and came face to chest with Alistair.

Damn him for being so freakishly, humanly tall!

She raised her eyes to meet his, and somehow could find nothing to say. He was standing close and she could make out little flecks of green in his eyes. His hand was still resting against her bare back, and even though some sort of shock seemed registered on his face, he did not move it.

"So soft…"he murmured in a low voice, his eyes wandering over her face, almost hungrily. Allira could feel her heart skipping every other beat, as if doing some sort of exotic dance. Her breath came out rather shakily.

"Alistair?" She murmured back, finding nothing else to say, but still needing some sort of confirmation that he was not a stranger, that he was still Alistair even in this strange moment filled with emotion she did not know.

He did not answer, but moved his large, warm hand over her chilled back, back and forth. He still had not looked away from her face.

Jac barked, the sound echoing in the night, followed by a sharp comment from Morrigan.

It broke the magic of their little encounter, whatever it was to be called. Alistair took his hand away as if burned by fire. Allira stepped away so quickly she almost fell over, rogue or not.

"I… you had some blood stains on your back…" Alistair said in one rushed breath. "Probably since that battle with the big bad mage and all, and I'll just be over here."

He took himself off, far away in the shadows of the other side of the fire. So far, so she could barely make him out in the shadows. Allira sighed.

Review? Have a cookie.


	2. Professionalism

Wow! What an awsome response to a tiny little oneshot. Thank you all! I just hope that someone with a knack for epic lovestories will come along and do us all happy.  
Here comes another little blurp while we wait..

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**Chapter: Professionalism**

They were going through their equipment after a recent fight. Morrigan was darning a large rip in her leather pants, and Zevran was sharpening his knifes. Allira was supposed to be cleaning her bow, but really, she wasn't. Instead she was staring at Alistair who was going thorough a pile of loot. He had been complaining about the fit of his boots, and were trying on a pair of dwarfen ones. They fit very nicely. Extremely nice, so much that Allira found herself mesmerized by his calves. She knew it was silly, and indeed had never ever been interested in this particular piece of male anatomy before.

But Alistir's calves were lean and muscular, and somehow looking at them made her blush a little. It was both strange and…totally unprofessional!

"Alistair", she barked suddenly, to everyone, including her own, surprise. "Can I please have a word?"

Straightening up, he only nodded and followed her over to a more secluded spot.

"Your desire is my command," he told her promptly, but with a certain glitter in his eyes. Oh she knew that glitter.

"That is precisely the thing, Alistair!" she retorted. He raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"You don't want me to say that?" he suggested.

"No! Well..I…" Allira sighed, and stepped forward and leaned against him. He readily wrapped his arms around her, and rested his cheek against her hair.

"You distract me. Even by wearing armour. Probably even by only by existing you'd be a distraction to me."

She could feel him chuckle.

"You are angry with me because I distract you? Believe me, the feeling is mutual… The distraction I mean."

She raised her head so she could look him in the eye. Yup, sparkling indeed.

"You're jesting with me."

"Indeed I'm not. They day you got that Dalish armour was an epic day. I dread every morning when I know you will put it on again, and yet I cannot long for it more."

And he smiled a little lopsidedly, and yet again she did not know if he was making fun of her, or telling her the truth.

Pushing away from his chest, she grumbled in frustration.

"I just think we should try behaving with a little more…professionalism when we're in company. More like Grey Wardens," she said, scratching arm and sighing.

"All right," he agreed readily, and then gave her a salute. "One professional Grey Warden reporting for duty."

Allira rolled her eyes.

"Good, I see you're finally realizing who's in charge anyway." She began to walk away, when he stopped her, simply wrapping his hand around his arm.

"Alistair?" she said questioningly, seeing both smirk and glittering eyes very much in place.

"We're alone now," he answered. "No other people here at all. I think we should talk a little more about how handsome you think I look in my armour…"

And then he silenced her objections with a kiss.


	3. Moonlit

Chapter: Moonlit  
Thank you for the awsome response! I'm obsessed with virtual Prince Charming Alistair, so there will be more where this came from.

And no, I do not know if there is any dolphins in Ferelden. But it sounded better than sharks..

* * *

"Blood stains, Allira muttered angrily to herself. "How can a substance that is supposed to stay inside, stick so thoroughly to your outside?!" Looking around carefully, and seeing no one, she started stripping out of her armour. The surface of the pond shone in the moonlight, and Allira congratulated herself for finding it. She supposed the others would like to know that there was a way to clean up, besides a bucket and a sponge; but she wanted to keep her little discovery to herself for just a little while longer.

When she was finally down to her underthings, she looked around once more for good measure and was just easing out of it, when she heard a splash. Crouching immediately, she hid behind a low bush, her heart hammering in her ears.

The pond wasn't shining serenely anymore, waves were now battling wildly on the surface. Allira started to reach for her bow, when suddenly a red head broke the surface with a great snort.

Alistair.

She let go of the bow, and ducked even lower. What was he doing here? It was her secret spot, dammit! She had seen it first!

She peeked round the bush again. The pond really wasn't that large, and even though he was standing in the deepest end, the water only reached a little higher than his waist.

Oh…

Somehow, watching him didn't make Allira's heart rate go down at all. Water was pouring from his short hair, and making its way lazily down his chest. All the wetness was making his skin shine in the moonlight.

He looked breathtaking, she admitted to herself. Literally. Looking at him was making her forget to breath. Allira swallowed once, then again, trying to decide what to do.

Walking away was not an option… Not when she wanted to bath too, and he looked so nice in the water.

"Alistair! The darkspawn are attacking!" she yelled at him, praying that no one at camp would hear her.

He reacted immediately and started to wade out of the pond as quickly as he could. Silently creeping around to the other side, Allira jumped in. She made sure that the splash would be quite loud. She also made sure that she aimed for the shallows. Since she had grown up in the Alienage in Denerim, she had never learnt to swim.

He had only managed to get to the edge of the pond, the edge of the water dangerously close to his buttocks, when he stopped, hearing her dive in.

When she surfaced, he was glaring at her playfully, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You hardly look like a dangerous darkspawn. No horns, no scale, no breathing fire… Perhaps I should kill you anyway though, just to make sure…"

Allira smiled languidly at him, enjoying the cold water. Since she was so much shorter than Alistair the water covered her up to her chest. Not that she had anything to hide really, since she was still wearing her underwear.

"As long as I can clean up first, you can do whatever you want with me."

She wanted to hit herself when she realized exactly how that had sounded. Alistair only grinned at her, the lopsided boyish grin only he could do so well.

"Well then. I can't let such an opportunity pass me by, can I?"

That answer left her a trifle breathless, and when she had gathered her wits enough to answer, he was suddenly gone.

The little pond once again shone and glittered in the light of the moon. Shifting from one foot to the other, Allira looked around nervously. Did he slip under? Did he do it on purpose? Or couldn't he swim either? Perhaps he was drowning and…

She got her answer, when a strong hand suddenly latched itself to her ankle and pulled her down into the dark water.

"I can't swim, Alistair!" she tried to say, but it didn't come out as it should. Instead it only filled her mouth with murky water that tasted like earth and autumn on the way. For a moment she swivelled helplessly in the water, detachedly wondering if she should start panicking anytime soon. Then those hands came again and lifted her up, and stood her on her feet again. The coughing came at once.

When she had cleared her throat and her eyes somewhat, she noticed that he was still holding her upright by her shoulders. The grin was gone, and he did seem a little worried.

"Not a darkspawn, but a drowned kitten!" he exclaimed softly. "How could I be so mistaken."

"The only mistake you did was believing I could swim," Allira scoffed back. His hands were warm.

"Well, you know, since I was raised by dolphins, I just assumed everyone could swim," he answered, pushing some of her wet her out of her face.

"I thought you were raised by dogs." Damn his hands for making her heart flutter like that. It was hardly fair. Probably the shock. His hands had nothing to do with it. Just the shock of nearly drowning, not those soft, warm hands with slender fingers, just shock…

"Well, I was. But the dolphins took me in, when the dogs threw me out."

"Oh."

She was starting to feel a little chilled now, the cold of the water seeping into her bones. At least she was clean. No more bloodstains. Alistair didn't look like he was cold at all. He was looking at her with a slight smirk, and had apparently forgotten all about his hands holding her like that. Gently, but firmly.

"So…"he started, licking his lips. "Do you come here often?"

Slightly distracted by his lips, she raised her eyes to his.

"Err, not really. I found it just a few weeks ago." Unconsciously she stepped a little closer to him, as if trying to absorb his body heat.

He nodded and smiled. "Me too."

He was slowly lowering his face towards hers, agonizingly slowly, and she had forgotten to breathe, when the cry came.

"Allira?! Alistair? By the Maker where are you? The darkspawn are attacking!"

* * *

Saved by the bell, no? ^^ Those darkspawn sure has the worst timing.... Cookies for all reviewers, and your very own undressed moonlit Alistair!


	4. Humans

You guys (well, I really guess we are all girls here actually) have officially turned the corner from awesome, to inspiring. I might, just might, start that epic dragon age love story of the century on my own, if you keep this up… I'm high on reviews! ^^

This one is not so little, and takes place before Alistair and PC-Allira have become, er, more than friendly.;)

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Chapter: Humans

Allira was sitting in front of her fire, deep in thought. Oghren was snoring somewhere in the darkness to her right. Which was comforting, but rather annoying at the same time. She couldn't see any of the others, but she could hear them from time to time, the sounds of the night blending with sounds of coughs, laughter, and people moving about. So different from her home in the Alienage. Everybody she knew up until a few months ago had been elves. Elves were so different. They moved so quietly. Or perhaps everyone else was just very loud? Dwarfen society had been a big shock, but it was still the humans that filled her with the most fascination. She had seen humans all her life, feared them mostly, but occasionally she had spoken to them. But until she met Alistair and Duncan, and Morrigan for that matter, she had never spent any longer amount of time in the company of a human.

They were just…strange.

Duncan had been a surprise, for the whole time; short though it was; that she had known him.

At first, when he had suddenly appeared in the Alienage she had been wary. Her wariness had soon turned to curiosity, when he told her that he was a Grey Warden. It felt as if the old stories and the fairy tales had turned real, and one of it's heroes was standing in the filthy street in front of her.

But of course, she soon had other things to busy herself with. She had felt little enthusiasm for her arranged marriage though, and even as she stepped up onto the podium, her thoughts strayed to the Grey Wardens. To adventure. To another life that she could never have in Denerim. Her cousin had told her to stay, and even though she supposed he was right, her soul wanted to soar.

Her whole life had been marked by her elven heritage. It had planned the borders of her whole existence.

Not allowed to go wherever she pleased, an easy mark for any human bully who wanted some sport. Always despised for her looks, shouts of "knife-ear" following her mostly wherever she went. And finally, this arranged marriage with a person she had met only moments before.

When her proper, well-organised future cracked and broke, she was more aware of a sense of relief, than any sorrow. She was angry like hell, deeply worried what would become of her friends and quite a bit frightened. But she was relieved for herself. Because now she knew, that even if she died that day, even if every terrible thing that the other girls feared from human lords came true, she would fight first. And to have one good fight that actually mattered would be enough: she would have lived a little.

But of course, she did survive. And when she returned Duncan was the only one that looked at her like she was still a person. No awe, no fear, no worry that her actions might disturb the awkward balance in Denerim. Perhaps even a tad respect?

Allira became a Grey Warden.

And Duncan died.

She would gladly have died for him. Every day when she woke, every battle she fought, every step she took she was filled with immense happiness. Happiness that she had at least lived a little.

But since he died, and she didn't, she took on his burdens.

He had been a brave man set to do what he could in hard times. Now she was set to honour his memories by doing the same.

From one human, her thoughts leaped to another. Not very surprising. Thoughts of him flittered around in her brain more often then she cared to admit.

Alistair.

When she first met him, she thought he was mad. He surely spoke like a madman. It took her a while to realize that he just had a different outlook on life. A very different one. Irreverent some would say. But Allira liked it. She had never been around humans much, nor ever travelled, and he made her laugh and forget for a while that everything was new, and sometimes uncomfortable.

It felt good to be merry, even only for a little while. Her cousins had always told her that she was too grim. That she should smile more. And that was the reason why Alistair's gift of laughter was even more precious now, when she had little to smile about.

Even though she was an elf, he accepted her as a comrade and fellow Grey Warden. Only a man with a great and kind spirit would do that…

Allira sighed as she recognized the turn that her thoughts had taken. Too often the last month she found herself looking at him, and then not looking away. She was glad he did not seem to notice, for surely he would reject her. Or make fun of her? She had no idea how a human would react to being ogled by an elf girl.

Later. The very subject of her thoughts plumped down beside her on the ground. His breast plate rattled against his metal shoulder guards as he found a comfortable position.

She refused to look at him, to give herself some small victory at least, now that she could not keep him out of her thoughts.

She could feel every glance he cast at her, as if he was throwing pebbles at her instead of merely looking.

When she still didn't say anything, nor looked at him, he finally spoke.

"A copper for your thoughts?" he said. "Or perhaps, a sovereign or two, you seem to be deep in thought… Almost lost to the world. You are not sleeping with your eyes open, are you? Because at the monastery I heard about at least two diseases where the first sign is to sleep with one's eyes open. We don't want you to become ill."

"I was raised in an Alienage, Alistair. The fact that I'm alive today means that I have survived every plague, illness and general infection known to humans," she informed him curtly.

Something passed in his eyes, some feeling that was gone too quickly for her to register its meaning. Then he grinned in her general direction.

"That's good then. I know of this tavern in Denerim… One of the other Wardens told me never to go there if I did not want an exotic disease. I've always wondered what he meant; perhaps you can help me investigate? Since you're immune and all."

Allira sighed. She could not be angry with him. Not even when he occupied so much of her brain when she needed it for other things. He did not do it on purpose after all. She supposed…

"What's this tavern called?" she asked, with a slight smile.

"I think it was named after a jewel or something. The crown? The Arl? Ah no, the Pearl!"

He seemed surprised when her answer was a snort, which turned into a huge laugh. A very small part of her brain was furious at him, for managing to knock her out of her grim mood yet again. Still, the other parts found his innocence too hilarious to keep silent.

"Alistair, do you always proposition escapades to bordellos to girls you travel with? Or am I the first? Because in that case, I'm honoured…"

She could see the wheels and kegs turning in his mind. When he had come to the conclusion, he started blushing.

Deeply.

In fact, she had never before seen a man turn that particular colour.

But then again, she had already admitted to herself that she did not know humans very well…

* * *

I was trying to be cool and not post. But it was already written, so why not. And if you want a good laugh and lots of friendly people to ogle Alistair with, head over to the "Romancing Alistair" at the Bioware Dragon Age forum!  
As usual, cookies for all!


	5. Lampposts

Ah, the famous licking lamp posts discussion. Don't we all love it?  
Thank you for your support and keep playing!

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"So…have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?" he purred at her, lingering carefully on every word. Allira froze, wondering in that moment how she could suddenly feel so cold, and yet as if her stomach was aflame. She had never (and being an elf she had gotten some rather creative suggestions from humans who thoughts elves were promiscuous) heard anyone make anything sound so…so… erotic. He was obviously joking, but that didn't stop the fierce blush that quickly covered her cheeks. In fact, him joking about it, was making her blush all the worse. Obviously he had no idea what she used to daydream about. Or what she was beginning to feel for him. She shivered.

"No, I haven't licked any lampposts," she managed to answer, not being able to look him in the eye.

Therefore, she missed it. She missed when his eyes lit up with what could very well have been desire; she missed how he licked his lips, taking a deep calming breath. Since she was so ridiculously embarrassed by the whole situation, she even missed how his eyes softened and how he smiled a little, when he saw her chagrin.

"I myself never had the…pleasure," he continued, his voice faltering a little. "Not that I haven't…thought…about it."

Allira shivered again, trying desperately to keep her imagination at bay. She had always had trouble with it, but it was only since she met Alistair that it had become this unruly. Not that she had any experience of that kind, but his voice saying those words still summoned up images of them naked and… yes, indeed, troublesome imagination.

Did he imagine stuff like that? No, not the innocent templar boy-man. Why would he think about his fellow Grey Warden like that, when she was not only dirty and torn, but also an elf. It was ridiculous and she had only herself to blame, because she had stumbled into this discussion, head on. Damned imagination and damned curiosity. Have you ever, indeed. She should have played drinking games with Oghren instead, if she was so curious.

Still, she had stepped into this discussion, and now she had to end it somehow. Preferably without him ever finding out why she had asked in the first place. Keep him talking, yes, then she didn't have to.

"You never had the opportunity?"

His voice was more serious when he answered this time. Sincere. Just hearing him speak like that made her zone out for a moment. That voice…

"…they taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful ladies such as yourself. That is not so bad, is it?"

Alliras head snapped up so quickly it was almost painful. Did he actually say that? Even more, did she imagine that hopeful tone as he finished with a question? He wanted her acceptance? Really?

Still, her brain was overruled. Some other part of her, a part that was a bit too honest for her own liking, answered for her.

"You think I'm beautiful?" she blurted out, cringing a little at how insecure she sounded.

For a moment their eyes met, and she felt that strange sensation of being hot and cold at the same time. His eyes were warm, like liquid amber, and when he looked at her, she felt as if she could never look away. He did really look at her like she was beautiful.

"Of course you are, and you know it. You are ravishing, resourceful and all those other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying."

Huh. Her mouth hang open by now. Alistair found her ravishing? He said it like it was so obvious, and as if she should know too.

She didn't. Something inside her suddenly felt ridiculously light, like sunshine was pouring into her soul. Her feet wanted to dance, the corners of her mouth pulled upwards without her even noticing. And yet again, that other part of her won the race against her brain, and answered for her. And breathlessly too.

"I would never hurt you," she said, her heart hammering strangely.

He didn't smile. His face was deadly serious and those eyes….she swallowed thickly, moistening her lips with her tongue nervously. Would he laugh at her now? He had never struck her as the cruel type, but this gravity made her fear the worst.

Her heart almost stopped beating altogether when he reached out and took her hand gently and very lightly in his.

"Nor I you," he said, and she didn't know if she had remembered to breath properly or if she had heard his voice so serious since Duncan died.

And they just stood there for a moment, her hand in his, their eyes locked with some kind of sizzling intensity that neither understood, but still didn't want to interrupt.


	6. Reasons

"Well, maybe you should ask her why she likes me so much, instead of bothering me with it," Alistair snapped at the Golem.

Silence fell over the group when Shale slowly turned towards Allira and cocked its head. Morrigan and Zevran followed suit. Alistair was blushing and avoiding her eyes.

"Eeh…what…I…." Allira started to say, very eloquently.

It had all began when they took a break on the road back to camp. Everyone was tired after the fight, everyone except Shale, it seemed. The Golem had instead reverted to an extremely talkative mood. The descent into disaster had begun without Allira even noticing. She had been lounging in the grass, dinking a little water when she heard Shales first question. It was difficult to ignore, so she tried to appear oblivious, while listening intently.

Shale had started innocently enough, stating to Alistair that he had become very close to the other Grey Warden. She could not but agree, and had to hide a smile at Alistairs answer. Sweet and flustered but not too embarrassed. She was glad he wasn't ashamed of her anyway.

"I find this difficult to comprehend. It is whiny and weak and constantly laughing," Shale continued, his voice stonily neutral.

Morrigan snorted somewhere to the right, and even Zevran could be heard to snigger. Alistair and the Golem stared at each other for a moment, while Allira held her breath for his witty comeback.

"Then I guess a romance between you and I is completely out of the question, hmm?" he answered, rather calmly.

Having seen him get very riled up by Morrigan on occasion, Allira could not help but feel a surge of pride. Then she registered what he had said, and was left breathless yet again. Did he just describe their relationship as a romance? He did! Not as a friendship, or brotherhood or wardenhood or anything. Romance indeed. She had to take calming breaths, and make an effort to control the corners of her mouth. Her whole face wanted to smile, and since she wasn't officially listening, that would be weird.

Therefore she missed what Shale next said, and only snapped to when she heard Alistairs answer.

"Well, maybe you should ask her why she likes me so much, instead of bothering me with it."

Ah. They had her on that one. Difficult to pretend she hadn't been listening when she was staring back at them with her mouth hanging open like a dying fish.

"Eeh…what…I…." Damn. She could hear Morrigan snort again, even though Zevran was only looking at her with raised eyebrows.

"I like Alistair because…."

Great start there, Tabris.

Shale was looking at her questioningly. At least she guessed that was the emotion on the Golems face. Alistair darted a quick look at her, his cheeks somewhat red, and then he lowered it to his boots again.

Allira swallowed. She could do this. Nothing difficult about it at all really. If she could slay dragons and darkspawn and stand up for the weak, then she should be able to do this. Wait, why did she like Alistair so much?!

"I like Alistair because he doesn't look at me like I'm some dirty elf from the Alienage," she began hesitatingly. "And because he makes me laugh and forget that we have a world to save."

She squared her shoulders and tried to release her death grip on the water bottle. She could feel Morrigans gaze burn into her forehead. Allira tried to ignore her, and glanced at Alistair again, only to find him watching her intently. His eyes were smouldering and she could not look away.

"He is always there for me, whenever I need support in a fight or someone to talk to when I'm lonely. He might not always be the brightest or the strongest, but he has the kindest heart I know, and that is worth more than brains or muscles," she could hear her own voice growing in strength. "And despite everything that is happening, and the fact that we are the only Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, he is still standing by my side. And for how long or short time we might have left, I know he won't abandon me."

Silence.

Not even Shale, who had started it all, said something. Morrigans eyebrows had rose so high they had disappeared under the fringe of her hair. Zevran seemed somewhat displeased, but the reason was unclear.

Finally, after a lot of staring, it was Alistair who moved. He rose, walked over to Allira and offered her his arm, in a courtly manner. His smile was very slight, and his eyes were still doing that smouldering thing. It made her knees tremble.

But she rose, and took his arm, trying to keep her face composed. She could feel his arm clasp hers in some sort of understanding.

Together they continued to walk leisurely towards camp.

After a hurried scramble, everyone else followed.


	7. Dirty Thoughts

I was imagining something more adult, but the text just didn't go there, even though my brain did. My writing seems to be stuck in fluffy, light romance, comical, undressed Alistair land. Sorry?

Placed somewhere after the camp snogging has begun, but before any actual licking of lampposts.

* * *

She could not take her eyes away from his bare chest.

She had seen human boys have similar reactions to Morrigan, when they visited Denerim. It felt awful not to be able to wield any control over her eyes, but at the same time, it was hard to bring herself to care. His body was glistening with sweat in the weak morning sun, the muscles dancing under his tanned skin. It was like a symphony of movement and the way his muscles flexed and worked…was making her think of extremely inappropriate things. Since those things was only based on tales from her cousin, and information gleamed from books; she did not even have a clear picture of what it was looking at him made her want.

"Ooooh, Alistair is chopping wood!" Leliana squealed happily, stepping out from her tent and assessing the situation in one glance. "This is always my favourite part of the morning."

Allira felt some small part of her object most forcibly to the way the other woman was eyeing Alistair. Still, it was not as if she owned him or anything. They had just exchanged gifts and…spoken… a lot under the stars. That sort of thing didn't necessarily signify anything. Or did it?

No matter, her thoughts zoomed back to the matters at hand when Alistair bent to stack a pile of wood. His hindquarters weren't bad either.

"That man has so much to recommend himself," Leliana murmured approvingly.

"You missed it when he took of his shirt," Allira smirked, happy she at least had that one over the other woman.

Unaware of his enthusiastic audience, Alistair continued to chop wood. Their many campfires needed a lot of fuel, and whenever he came back to camp, and became restless, he would chop up some new stacks. It usually made him sweat and remove his shirt, but he had no idea how hot and bothered it made his fellow Grey Warden.

Alistair was just innocent that way.

He swung the axe down with powerful determination, and then stopped to wipe the sweat away from his face with his forearm. Then he arched his back, as if it was a little sore (it made Leliana exhale and give a low whistle) and looked around. The human rogue managed to avert her gaze just in time and appear oblivious. Allira, though she was forged in the Denerim Alienage and was usually quicker, did not.

In fact he caught her staring blatantly, perhaps even drooling a little.

Alistair caught her eye and smiled brightly, making her blush something awful. In the corner of her eye, she saw Leliana strolling away, grinning like mad.

Sticking the axe to the log with one firm movement, Alistair sauntered over to Allira.

There was no way he walked like that if he wasn't aware of how…nice he looked bare-chested. He came to stand close to her, once again wiping his forehead.

"Nice morning, heh?" he said amiably.

Having come face to chest with him, Allira could manage no verbal reply. Did all templars look like this? No other man she had ever seen had had a body with that…definition. She could not avoid looking at his naked chest, however she tried. Why had the maker saw fit to make elves shorter than humans? Was that some kind of perverted joke from his side?

"Pardon?"

What. Had she said that out loud? Was this really the end of her life, by means of mortification, instead of just an ordinary day?

"I wasn't even trying to be funny. I think it is a fine day," he said, sounding a little hurt.

Painful death by mortification. Perhaps she could drown in his eyes, but then she would die happily and that wasn't the point.

"I was…just…thinking," she managed to choke forth. "It wasn't meant for you."

He seemed justly confused by that.

"Perverted jokes from whom? Oh, did Leliana sing you one of her lewd songs again?" He looked at her pityingly. "I know the feeling. She made me blush like a teenager. And that was just from the parts I understood…"

He smiled lopsidedly down at her, as if trying to make her at ease by admitting his own inexperience. If he only knew. Her fluttering eyes fastened themselves to the gentle slope of his shoulders again.

Damn him for having so good shoulders. And skin that seemed so soft and touchable.

"Hey," he said softly, lifting her face towards his with his knuckles under her chin. "Stop blushing, she is gone now."

And such fine eyes.

This was getting ridiculous. All of it.

Allira made a strong effort to get herself together.

"Eh, well, I'll try," she told him honestly.

He smiled at her again, and after casting a glance around him to check if they were alone, reached out to drag her into his arms.

She swallowed when her body came into contact with his. Tingles moved up and down her arms when she weakly lifted them to wrap loosely around his neck. Indeed, every part of her that touched him tingled and sang.

He was still slightly damp, but it was not unpleasant. He smelled like fresh wood, sweat and rust, manly smells that she associated with him. Trying to be covert about it, she stuck her tongue out infinitesimally and tasted his skin.

Salty, but nice. Giving herself another mental shake, she sighed against him.

"I'm sorry, Alistair, I will try not to get so…wound up," she offered. Too bad the poor man didn't know what she was really telling him.

"Good girl," he mumbled into her hair, his arms holding her pleasantly tight to him.

No, she thought to herself, she was a bad, bad girl.

* * *

Now give the old girl some love, or even a review!


	8. End

Thank you so much, especially all of you who actually have taken the time to review more than once. It really means a lot.

This blurb just escaped my brain, so here it is. Perhaps not in a very organized order, but hey hoo. ;)

* * *

Alistair had seen so much blood. His own. Hers, which was worse, but inevitable. Blood of friends, enemies and all in between.

He was dead tired. He knew she was too. He could see it in the slump of her shoulders, how she carried her bow as if it was too heavy.

The Dead legion had taken the bridge towards the old fortress, some months ago. With the help of the growing might of the Grey Wardens, this feat had been possible. They had made it possible, he thought, looking at the woman he loved. And now they were here again. Alone in the deep dark.

She must have felt his gaze, because she turned to him.

"It seems fitting after all. There is nothing so different about us after all. Even if we killed a Archdemon, we still end up where all Wardens have to go sooner or later."

She sounded bitter, and he didn't like it. He knew she fought daily against bitterness, over how her life had turned out. It made him want to weep. And grab her and shake her.

"We have done something good," he said, utter conviction in his voice. "We saved our country, because we were the only ones who could. Perhaps it might have been easier not to drink from that chalice, but then we would long have been dead. All of us."

He didn't step closer, because he wasn't finished. But he had to swallow hard when he saw the wet lines of tears on her cheeks.

"And we rebuilt the Grey Wardens. Thanks to us Ferelden is safe. Will be safe in the future. Our legacy might not be one that inspire bards and we might not have children that remember us…." His voice caught there, as he had known it would. There was, after all, some pain that did not ease with time.

"But Ferelden exists because of us."

And deep inside he felt a bubble of joy that they had survived so long, of what they had accomplished. And that they were still together. He locked eyes with her, trying to convey some of it to her.

At first, he thought he had not reached her. Then she took a deep breath, and some of the statue-like stillness left her.

And then finally, and he saw it and knew her spirit was not broken, one corner of her mouth pulled into a slight smirk.

"I think you're wrong, my love," she said calmly and started walking towards the bridge span.

After a few steps, she looked back at him over her shoulder, as saucy now as she had been at nineteen.

"I think bards will sing of our deeds and adventures for a long time to come."

Relief flooded him. With a couple of quick steps he caught up with her, and crushed his lips to hers. Kissing her still held the thrill it always had. Her lips were a little dry, but quickly became moist under his own. Claiming her lips, her heart and her very soul for one last time. When she finally gasped for breath, she remained close to him, and leaned her head on his chest.

"I only wish I could take more happy memories with me into death," she sighed, but without bitterness. He breathed in the scent of her greying hair and smiled against the dishevelled curls.

"I'm taking everything I love on this earth with me," he said.

The bards did sing of them. Because theirs was a memory that could never die.


	9. Proving

I found this laying around today and realised I had not published it. This character is from my second play-through with Allira jr, who is (obviously) a mage! Maybe I will whip up something else too, we will see. Enjoy!

* * *

Before she had even decided what to do, she was running forward. Her breath came rushed and her heart was skipping every other beat when she saw the dark, twisted creatures ahead.

She would not be the silly little mage girl who they have to save in every fight, and look out for. She could be a warrior, like him. She could help; she could defend herself and her companions. The inner monologue hardly stopped when she threw herself down on her knees, sliding the last few paces on her knees to get under the darkspawn line of fire.

Flames burst from her fingertips, making already black skin sizzle and burn. Three were down, clutching their faces and roaring. One more fell, silently, eyes gone and face a bleeding mask of horror. But one still stood, staring at her in something like bewilderment. She fumbled for another spell, for lightning or ice to save her, but the powerful burst of fire had weakened her, and she saw in horror how the flickering lightning spluttered and died. Exhaustion was creeping in, making the edges of her vision turn into shadows. She stared at the darkspawn, practically kneeling at his feet, and he laughed hoarsely, madly and raised his jagged sword. Would she die like this, at least they had to remember how she had defended them. Or perhaps they would only remember her stupidity.

And an axe barreled into he darkspawns' head, cleaving its forehead like a piece of wood and lodging in its brain. It didn't make a sound, body just crumbling in a heap in front of her.

Breath still would not come as it should, heart was thundering in her chest, pumping blood to limbs that were starting to tremble. And then he came.

"Makers breath, you stupid little girl!"

And even though he most often looked at her body as if she wasn't a little girl at all, he dragged her to her feet and shook her. Her teeth rattled in her head, her feet was close to dangling off the ground because his height and strength. When she willed her eyes to look into his, she saw anger and fear all mixed up, as if he didn't know what to feel.

He let go, standing her on her feet again, dragging a hand through his hair and then quickly grabbing her again when he saw how she wobbled on her own.

"Are you hurt?"

Softer now, almost tender. Not the way a Grey Warden would speak to the newest member, but exactly the way she longed for him to speak to her. Mutely, still shaking with exhaustion, cold and fear, she shook her head. She wasn't hurt after all. She just wanted to lay down somewhere warm and sleep.

When she slumped in front of him, he was equally quick to drag her into her arms. Propping her up against his taller and harder frame, he swiftly patted her down for any injuries. When he was satisfied that she was unhurt, he snaked one arm under her knees, and lifted her.

"You fight like a crazy person," he told her in a low, confiding tone of voice. She half heard him with her ears and half felt his voice rumble through his chest. She wanted to sleep so badly, something inside her telling her that she was safe now.

"And you tell me you have been brought up in the Tower, spending all your time in the library? I'm not falling for that one, my pretty, oh no. I swear, you were raised by magical Mabaris. You fight like one anyway."  
She had no strength left to chuckle, and as he started to walk, carrying her as if she were just a child, she felt her eyes fall closed.  
"You are too thin." She dimly heard him mumble. "Just skin and bones, held together by magic."  
She was somewhere warm now, where there was no darkspawn leering at her, and she did not have to prove anything to anyone. But still, she heard his voice, travelling to reach her in her dreams.

"You must stay alive. Because I have no one else. If you leave me, I will be all alone. Please stay."

But she slept, content to be safe and to be someone that mattered, and she did not hear him.


End file.
